


Hypopyrexia

by TheDragon



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Hospital, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bonding, Dubious Consent, Fuck Or Die, Gunshot Wounds, Hurt/Comfort, Knotting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:34:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24480622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDragon/pseuds/TheDragon
Summary: If anyone had asked Merlin what he expected his day to be like, he would have said, "Nothing special." How could he have known that he'd end up getting drugged, shot at, and mated, all within the span of two very short hours?
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 293
Collections: Camelot Remix 2020





	Hypopyrexia

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Camelittle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Camelittle/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Hyperpyrexia](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13759509) by [Camelittle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Camelittle/pseuds/Camelittle). 



> Writing this was so much fun! I've loved this fic since the moment I first read it all those years back, and I had a blast remixing it!

The needle stabbing into Merlin's neck hurts like a _bitch_.

The man behind him wraps an arm around his waist and holds him steady as he pushes down on the plunger of the syringe. The contents of it race through Merlin's veins, spreading quickly throughout his body. The change is instantaneous—it begins with a sudden rush of impossible heat that has Merlin fearing he'll somehow burn to death from the inside out. That recedes after a few seconds, only to be replaced with an icy cold sensation that freezes all of his muscles in place.

Merlin whimpers. Then, he goes down like a log, falling into the body behind him.

"You were right, he's an omega!" the man holding him shouts, turning his head to look at whoever is behind him. "The heat-inducing drugs worked! We've caught one!"

"Good," comes another voice, this one deeper and far more predatory. Merlin can't muster up enough strength to turn around and get a good look at him; his body is failing him, the drug leaving him with no strength to do anything other than breathe. "Now get him back to the van."

 _They're omega hunters_ , Merlin realises, his breath catching in his chest. They _know_. They're going to take him away. He'll disappear, with no one the wiser, not until his mum or Will got worried enough to call the police, but even then... even _then_...

There will be no proof, nothing to show where he was taken. Nothing to show _if_ he was taken, because for all anyone knew, he could have just run off. If they manage to get him into that van, Merlin doubts he'll ever see the light of day again.

The adrenaline kicks in, stronger than the drug. He flails and manages to hit man holding him up in the face.

" _Fuck_!" the man exclaims. He lets go of Merlin and doubles over, holding onto his bleeding nose. The second man throws himself at Merlin and they both crash to the ground. The scuffle doesn't last long, not with Merlin's waning strength, and soon enough he finds himself on his back with his wrists pinned down on either side of his head.

The second man smiles dangerously, and that smile— _that smile._ Merlin knows for sure that if he lets this man take him anywhere, he'll end up dead—or _worse_ —in a matter of _days_.

With that thought in mind, he brings his knee up as quickly as he can and jams it into the second man's groin. He instantly releases Merlin and grabs at his crotch with his hands, face turning redder by the second. Merlin stumbles to his feet and _runs_.

The first man gives chase, but he falls back almost instantly, no doubt finding it hard to breathe through his broken nose. Merlin puts whatever strength he has left into racing through the woods, hoping to come across a pathway, a hiking trail, _anything_.

And then the first shot is fired. It hits the tree on Merlin's left, not a metre from his head. He startles and trips over his own feet, wasting precious time. A second bullet hits the forest floor, close to where his feet had been a moment ago.

The third one grazes his thigh.

"Son of a _bitch_ ," Merlin curses, stumbling through the sudden burning pain in his leg. He spares a second to look behind him. The two hunters seem to have given up on the chase, and both of them are now aiming their guns at him.

A fourth bullet flies right over his head.

Most of the run is a blur to him. He remembers the wind being in his face, the rustling sounds the leaves made as he ran over them, and the overwhelming fear that he'd get shot again—that he'd get captured and taken away and _killed_ , even—but not much else, not until he tries running down a hill and ends up taking a tumble.

When Merlin hits the bottom, he's unconscious.

~oOo~

He wakes up to a tantalising smell that he can't quite name. He doesn't feel as cold anymore; instead, his body seems to have been consumed with a staggering heat. The bullet wound on his thigh burns more than his body does.

The source of said aroma is standing over him, wearing dark red scrubs and looking like the gods’ gift to mankind. The closer he gets, the more Merlin feels the urge to bare his neck to the side in submission. The instinct has heat racing to his cheeks.

"Hello, sir," says the doctor, his voice grave. He's got bright blue eyes, and his pupils dilate when he gets close enough to breathe in Merlin’s scent. "Welcome back. How do you feel?"

Merlin makes an effort to fix his eyes on the man's face, drinking it in, taking note of the blond hair that sweeps across his brow, the aristocratic nose, the shape of his lips. He doesn't think he's ever seen a man this beautiful, and judging by the mortifying leaking sensation between his legs, his body is inclined to agree. Suddenly nervous, Merlin sweeps his tongue across his lips.

"Hot," he says, voice hoarse. He needs a drink of water, something to cool him down. Instead, he closes his eyes and groans because that is the moment he registers that the doctor is holding onto his wrist. _Gods_ , his skin is so cool to the touch. 

Another man approaches, holding a plastic cup full of water and some sort of paper cup Merlin assumes contains medicine, drawing the doctor's attention away from Merlin

"Have a few sips of water," says the new arrival. Merlin's doctor, his... his alpha? Is that what he is? Is that why his presence and scent is so overwhelming? How is no one else reacting to it?

His alpha takes the items from the other man and puts them to the side. Then, he helps Merlin sit up, the skin-to-skin contact bringing with it a pleasant coolness that has Merlin’s heat temporarily receding. Merlin obediently accepts the medicine and water, relishing in the sensation of his alpha stroking his thumb over the underside of Merlin’s wrist.

"There," the alpha says. "That will help to bring your temperature down."

Merlin is grateful for the effort, but it's futile. There's only one thing that can bring his temperature down now. He can feel the little droplets of sweat making their way down his neck, soaking into the cloth of the flimsy dressing gown they've put him in.

"What's your name, sir?" Merlin's alpha asks, putting Merlin's hand back down onto the blanket. Merlin has to fight back a whimper when the heat returns, washing over him with the force of a tsunami, threatening to drown him with its intensity.

"Merlin," he introduces himself, letting his eyes flit over the alpha's body, taking very careful note of his muscular stature, of the arm muscles hiding beneath the short sleeves of the scrubs. The arms that, for some unknown to Merlin reason, _aren't touching him anymore_. He glares at the doctor's face. "I'm Merlin. Are you the one? Are you my al—?"

He's interrupted before he can finish.

"What happened to you, Merlin?" the alpha asks, frowning down at him, but the crinkle in the corner of his eyes gives away his concern. "You have a serious bullet wound. Who shot you?"

"The bullet wound, I can heal myself!" Merlin says, flashing him a sad smile. Trust an alpha to ignore the elephant in the room "That's not the problem I need you to solve, Doctor. It's my, um." He licks his lips nervously. "Hormones..." he whispers, hoping that no one is close enough to hear. Just in case, he shifts forwards and motions for the alpha to get closer. "Omega hunters... They chased me away..."

He can see them, the both of them. He can see the predatory smiles on their faces, the guns in their hands, the empty syringe lying on the ground. Merlin shivers.

"I'm in heat. I can't stop it. It could... Am I going to die?" he gasps, as a spasm rocks through his body. "It hurts. I've got to..."

"It won't come to that," says the doctor. The words may have been meant to calm Merlin down, but the fear in his alpha's eyes mirrors his own.

 _Gods_ , he smells so _good_ , this close to Merlin. Just a bit closer. Merlin needs him to come the _tiniest_ bit closer, so that he can tuck his face into the crook of his alpha's neck, let the man's scent comfort him properly.

"You're my only hope. Help me. I know you can," Merlin begs. He uses what little strength he has to push himself up, then leans in so that his lips almost touch the alpha's neck, right above his scent gland. The pheromones are so much more potent, this close. "You want to. I can taste it. I can _smell_ it."

"Right," the alpha croaks, eyes darting around wildly. Then, he clears his throat and lets his hand wrap around Merlin's bare arm, but this time, it seems that the action is meant to hold Merlin back. Merlin stays stock still as the alpha sucks worriedly at his teeth.

"Right," he says again, bending down. His breath, warm against Merlin's temple, ruffles his hair. "Um. I'm Arthur. I'm a doctor. And... I'm an alpha. But nobody knows about that. So, it's going to be okay. You're safe with me. You can trust me."

Gods, he knows his alpha's name now. "I knew it," Merlin sighs. He drops back down onto the bed, his weak muscles unable to hold him up any longer. A smile rises to his lips, unbidden. "At last..."

He lets his eyes flutter shut, knowing instinctively that he can let his guard down now, that his alpha would help him, protect him. He sighs in relief.

His alpha—Arthur!—moves then, but he doesn't go far. He pushes part of the blanket to the side and Merlin's dressing gown up a bit, then starts dabbing at the bullet wound on Merlin's thigh. The antiseptic stings, and Merlin hisses, fighting not to flinch away. Arthur apologises as he continues dressing the injury.

To help, Merlin, tries to focus all of his energy towards healing the wound. The flesh knits itself back together and a new, sensitive layer of skin wraps itself over the muscle. It still hurts, but the burn is no longer as intense as it was.

"Right, that's me off, then," someone says, putting their palm on his forehead. It's the other man, the one from before. Merlin almost recoils at the unwelcome touch. He is, however, gratified to see Arthur's fingers curl into fists; the jealousy is coming off him in waves. "Feel better soon, mate. It's quite the temperature you've got there."

"Tell Gwen I'll be keeping him in for observation," growls Arthur, redirecting Merlin's attention back to him. He's so busy staring at Arthur that he doesn't even notice the other man—the paramedic, presumably—leave.

"Mr Pendragon? Oh, hi, Arthur. Percival said you called for me?"

Merlin swivels his head around to look at the woman who spoke. She's standing a bit to his side, poking her head in around the curtain and looking at Arthur in question.

"Ah, yes. Thanks. I'd like to keep Merlin here under observation overnight," Arthur says to her. Gwen nods and comes closer, making a note in the notebook she's clutching.

"His temperature is fluctuating dangerously," Arthur goes on. The sound of his voice sends shivers down Merlin's spine. He knows it's the heat talking, but he feels like he could spend all day listening to Arthur speak. "We administered paracetamol and water at 18:20 to address the hyperpyrexia."

Gods, his _voice_. Merlin can't help the groan that fights its way out of his mouth. He feels so much hotter than he did a moment ago.

"There are no beds, Arthur," Gwen says, voice sharp as a whip. "We're putting patients in offices, corridors..."

"All right, I'll put him in my office. I've just got to..." Arthur trails off. Then, he abruptly pulls the curtains back and walks away. Merlin's heart stops dead in his chest, and he whimpers, trying to draw his alpha back to him, to make up for whatever he must have done wrong, whatever it was that made his alpha leave.

"Arthur," Merlin calls out to him when he realises that Arthur is going to leave him there without a second thought. He feels... he feels _betrayed_. He struggles to get to his feet and takes a few steps towards Arthur's retreating form. "Arthur, don't leave me," he whimpers, eyes wide and muscles tense. "I haven't time. Arthur, please..."

Arthur turns around to look at him, probably to admonish him, to tell him to get back into bed, but Merlin stands his ground.

"It's not water and paracetamol that I need," he hisses.

"Sir?" Gwen walks up to his side and places her hand on Merlin's upper arm. She tries to steer him back to the bed, but Merlin refuses to go. He gently shakes her off. It's not her touch that he needs right now.

"It's all right, Gwen," Arthur says through clenched teeth, eyes fixed on the point where her hand is still touching Merlin. "I will take care of him."

Merlin's shoulders drop down in relief.

"But Arthur, it's changeover time!" Gwen protests. "Cenred is already here..."

Merlin doesn't know who Cenred is, but judging by the way Arthur's eyes turn dark and dangerous when he hears the name, he's not a person Merlin should currently be around.

"Good," Arthur growls. The words sound like he's barely managing to pull them from his mouth. "Cenred can look after the other patients. I... can tell that this case needs particular treatment. I will deal with Merlin myself."

"There are protocols... you can't..." Gwen says, her grip on Merlin loosening until it's no more than a light press against his skin.

"Don't worry, Gwen," Arthur says firmly, flashing her a small smile. Merlin wonders if she can see just how forced it is. "I know how to get this man's fever down. And he trusts me, don't you, Merlin?"

Merlin nods, breathing hard. He leans forward as Arthur stalks closer. The calming, tantalising scent is back. Merlin barely notices when Arthur nods at Gwen and sends her away, too overwhelmed with the growing heat between his legs. Already, some of the slick has begun to make its way down his thigh.

Merlin nearly whimpers when Arthur places a hand on his arm, momentarily quieting the fire. He carefully guides Merlin back onto the bed. Merlin has to stamp down the urge to bend over it and present himself to his alpha in full view of the other patients and hospital staff.

"I will take care of you," Arthur whispers into his ear. "I know now what you need."

Merlin whimpers, both at the words and the sensation of Arthur's breath ghosting across his skin. All of his blood rushes down to his cock, which rises and begins to tent his gown. This does not go unnoticed by Arthur, who quickly kicks off the bed's brake and places one hand on Merlin's arm, as if he, too, cannot bear to go without touch. 

He leans down over Merlin, shielding him from view as he wheels the bed across the room and through numerous corridors. Every once in a while, he nods at a colleague they pass by.

The journey to Arthur's office is taking too long. The pheromones wafting off Arthur, especially now that Merlin's nose is mere _centimetres_ away from Arthur's groin, send his heat into overdrive.

"Arthur. Please! It hurts!" Merlin groans, thrashing his head upon the bed. He's not sure how much longer he can wait. He needs Arthur now, needs him unlike he’s ever needed anything before. He needs Arthur's strong, muscled body over his own, needs Arthur filling Merlin's arse with his cock, driving away the heat, the _emptiness_.

He barely registers Arthur's worried frown, too busy resisting the urge to get up and throw himself at him.

And then they're out of the hallway and in an office. Arthur quickly locks the door behind him, fly unzipped and cock out of its confinement. Merlin's need to get his hands or his mouth or his _arse_ on the knot Arthur is palming is almost tangible. His mouth waters when Arthur groans.

"Fuck." Merlin stands up and bends over the desk, placing his forehead on the cool surface. The hospital gown rides up and parts around him, framing his bare arse. He turns his head to look at Arthur, at the cock jutting proudly from his fly, and whimpers. "Look at you. I need you _now_. Please, Arthur!"

Another dollop of fluid drips from his hole and down his thigh. Merlin whines as he clenches down on nothing.

But Arthur isn't coming closer. He just stands there, eyes fixed on the slick leaking from Merlin's arse, cock hard in his hand.

"I can't," Arthur pleads, slowly jerking his cock. His pheromones become stronger as the precome beads at the tip of it, only to be swiped away by the movement of Arthur's hand. His scent starts to mix with Merlin's own, and the heady aroma makes Merlin dizzy. He's grateful he isn't standing.

"You're wounded! Please, let me heal you!" Arthur continues. His muscles are tense from the effort of holding himself back.

"I'll be fine if only you'll just fuck me," Merlin says. His own voice is low, guttural, saturated with desperation and need. Arthur is walking towards him before he's gotten the whole sentence out of his mouth. Every muscle in Merlin's body goes lax when the tip of Arthur's cock presses against his wet hole.

"Oh gods, yes. Oh gods!" Merlin pushes himself up to his tiptoes and makes sure to keep his head and shoulders down, presenting himself for his alpha's perusal. Arthur's cock nudges at him again. "Oh, gods, yes. Fuck me. Please."

And then Arthur is driving his cock forward with a cry, spreading Merlin wide around the girth of him. He's never before felt so full, so perfect! As though he could spend the rest of his life doing nothing but this, servicing his alpha whenever the need arises.

"I really shouldn't be doing this," Arthur whispers from behind him, and then suddenly, his cock is withdrawing, as if Arthur's changed his mind.

" _Please!_ Don't stop! Knot me! I know you can! I could smell it the moment I came in here," Merlin says, his voice hoarse with desperation.

"Gods," Arthur groans, but at least he's stopped moving. "If I knot you, you'll be _mine_. Is that what you want?"

"Oh yes. That's what I want, more than anything. _Please_ ," Merlin begs. It may just be the heat, but he's never before in his life felt so certain about anything.

Arthur pushes in again, the length of him hot and hard inside Merlin, grazing over his prostate. It feels so good, so _right_ , that he gasps.

"Don't stop," he says, arching his back even more. Arthur rewards him by pressing his face down between Merlin's shoulder blades and mouthing at the skin there. "Oh, fuck, that's what I need, that thick, hot cock of yours. Deeper, come on!"

The words seem to do something for Arthur, because he curls his hand around Merlin's own cock and starts fucking him harder. Merlin, in turn, thrusts into Arthur's hand, keeping with his rhythm. Every time Arthur bottoms out and his growing knot pushes at Merlin's hole, Merlin grunts. His muscles relax further to let the intrusion in, to make the push inside easier for the both of them.

Then, with one more hard thrust, the knot pushes past the final resistance and wedges itself inside of him. Merlin cries out as it settles within him, pressing deliciously on his prostate. Moments later, Arthur comes deep inside of him. His seed calms the fire that's been coursing through Merlin's veins, and his knot makes sure that not a drop can escape and make its way down Merlin's leg.

Seconds after Arthur comes, Merlin cries out and his cock twitches, pulsing with his release. He almost melts into the surface of the desk, content to stay there until they're both ready for round two.

He doesn't expect the gentle rub along his flanks and haunches, and he expects the ensuing movement even less. Arthur shuffles the both of them backwards until they're sat on the bed, with Merlin in Arthur's lap. Ever so carefully, Arthur shifts onto his side, taking Merlin with him.

Merlin is still out of it. He can barely make sense of the words Arthur is murmuring into his neck, but the nuzzling feels good. Arthur's knot is still throbbing inside of Merlin, cock rock hard, and Merlin's hole clenches down on it in turn. The feel of is slowly making Merlin's heat rear its head once again.

"What did they do to you?" Arthur asks, voice quiet. A second later he gasps and floods Merlin with more of his seed; Merlin shivers at the sensation. "When they found out about you?"

"Does it matter?" Merlin shrugs. He doesn't want to recall the men who'd cornered him in the forest, doesn't even want to think about the terror he'd felt, the hopelessness. His shoulders tense almost of their own volition. "They shan't find me again."

"They shan't," Arthur agrees. He places his hand on Merlin's hip and grips tightly. It should make him feel caged, but instead, the gesture makes Merlin feel protected. He's mated, now. He has his alpha, and he instinctively knows, down to his very bones, that Arthur would do anything to keep him safe. "I will look after you now."

The words make Merlin chuckle. Behind him, Arthur shudders.

"Trust me to be mated to a possessive prat with a protective steak a mile wide," he says, smiling fondly.

"You don't sound too upset about it," Arthur growls back.

"No," Merlin says, turning his head to look Arthur in the eyes and plant a soft kiss on his lips. "I'm really not."

It's odd how they've already mated, and yet are only now kissing. Arthur's lips are a bit rougher than Merlin's own—coarse, almost—but he reciprocates eagerly enough.

"You should have a public health warning," Arthur breathes against Merlin's lips. "I should put up with the anti-smoking ones. Avoid this man." Arthur moves his lips away and presses his nose into the curve of Merlin's shoulder. Merlin shudders as his breath ghosts over a particularly sensitive spot. "Severe risk of addiction. Keep clear at all costs."

"You should too," Merlin retaliates, lips curving up into a smile. "This man fucks like a demon. Beware his cock. Perilous penis. Severe danger of extreme bliss."

"Perilous penis?" Arthur laughs against his shoulder. Another witty retort is right at the tip of Merlin's tongue, but Arthur chooses that moment to grind into Merlin's arse and all coherent thoughts fly out the window. He growls into Merlin's neck, making Merlin shudder and his cock twitch where it lies half hard against his thigh. Merlin arches and presses his hips back, eager for another round.

Let the hunters come. He's found his alpha, and there isn’t a force in this world that can separate them now.


End file.
